Dream Sweet
by DragonLady37
Summary: In the dream, she was in a room filled with floating sparkles, almost like tiny stars. There was a silvery quality to the air. The air was cool, but her skin was still flushed. She felt compelled to move toward him, even though she couldn't see him yet, as if he were a beacon and she were lost at sea. / EWE, Dramione, one-shot, M for sexual content


**This may be my last one-shot for a little while. I have another, larger project of my own in the works, and I need to dedicate some attention to it! If you're enjoying my work, I'd love to hear from you! Thanks to everyone who's read my stuff so far. I hope you enjoy this one, too! This one is rated M for some lemony goodness near the end, so, you've been warned.**

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all things HP. I just play.**

**Also, Dramione forever. **

* * *

_Lips pressed to hot skin.  
__Surges of warmth.  
__Fingers pressing into hip bones, into ribs, into the expanse of her back.  
__Fingers tangled in her hair.  
__Sweat.  
__A flash of silver-grey eyes._

* * *

Hermione sat up, sweating, as her wand whistled like a songbird and vibrated on the table beside her bed. It took her a moment to orient herself after that dream - a dream she'd been having nearly every night for _weeks. _

She was in her flat, in her bed, alone. It was 6 AM on a Friday. She needed to get up, shower, and go in to work. Easy peasy.

With a groan, she swung her legs off the side of her bed, disentangling from the sheets and blanket as she went. The dream lent to her flailing about, and she huffed as she pulled the blankets away from her thighs.

She went through her routine. Teeth. Shower. Dress. Hair. Light makeup. Instead, she thought about her dream. She couldn't _not _think about it. It was burned into her mind. And if she were honest with herself, she didn't really _want _to forget. Since she and Ron flamed out the summer after her eighth year at Hogwarts, she hadn't dated, hadn't _wanted _another man. And that was over three years ago.

_In the dream, she was in a room filled with floating sparkles, almost like tiny stars. There was a silvery quality to the air. The air was cool, but her skin was still flushed. There were people all around, but she didn't see any faces. She felt compelled in each dream to move toward him, even though she couldn't see him yet, as if he were a beacon and she were lost at sea. Around her, people parted away until there he was._

_He was on a balcony, the moon shining down on his silvery hair, facing away from her. A beacon, he drew her in._

_The dream grew fuzzy as it moved forward. It became less about details and more about touches and flashes of images instead of full scenes. Looking up at his face in the moonlight. Her hand on his arm. His hand on her back. His eyes, shining. His hand in hers. Laughing. Green flames. Clothes falling away. Bodies falling onto a bed. Lips everywhere. Hands everywhere._

Hermione shook her head. Her cheeks were hot, and she forwent adding any blush before she left for work.

* * *

Hermione waited on the lift in the Ministry, stomach in knots. She worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - the DMLE - and used the evidence other aurors collected to build cases for the Wizengamot. She, too, was an auror, but she avoided field work as often as she could in favor of organizing and focusing on the little details.

Her job was great. Her co-workers were great. Even her officemate was great. That is, until her officemate decided to start starring in her X-rated fantasies each night. Now, she dreading going to work and seeing him, because seeing him meant remembering how the dream version of him had felt wrapped around the dream version of her.

Three years ago, if you'd asked her why working with Malfoy was so rough, she would have given you a laundry list of his faults - bigot, racist, hateful, snarky, rude, condescending - but after working with him for only a few weeks, she's realized he'd changed. He wasn't almost pleasant, which was a shock. Now, three years after they both started at the DMLE, they were friends. They even went out with groups together, had work lunches, all the things work-friends do. No, Malfoy's past wasn't the reason she was not looking forward to working with him today. It wasn't even his present.

She didn't want to see him, because the dream she'd been having every single night for weeks featured _him_, and every time she saw him now, she remembered the more visceral details, which was, to put it lightly, _mortifying._

The lift slowed, and Hermione released the strap that kept her upright and wiped her sweaty palms on her dress, glad she'd worn a dark color today. The doors opened, and with a deep breath Hermione stepped out.

She waved at the receptionist for their hall, peeked in a waved at Harry, who grunted and waved in return as he poured over a sloppily written document, and even spared a wave for Ron, who sheepishly waved back. He was standing at the desk of Astoria Greengrass, who'd been on staff for less than a year. Astoria worked for the DMLE as a legal secretary, and ever since she'd walked in, Ron had been obsessed. Hermione smiled and ducked her head as she passed Astoria's desk and headed into her own office.

"Morning, Granger," Malfoy said without looking up. He was hunched over his desk, scribbling furiously on a form from his most recent case with Harry. He and Harry were partners, but he shared an office with her, because Ron insisted on sharing an office Harry. It had been a whole thing when she and Malfoy started at the DMLE - Harry and Ron had been there a year before them and were set in their ways about where their desks should be - but Hermione had grown to enjoy sharing a space with him. He was tidy, liked routine, and worked quietly with just the right amount of social interaction. Just like her.

Sharing an office with him had been really lovely until the dreams started. Now her face heated every time she saw him, and he'd taken to lowering the temperature in the room, because he thought she was too warm.

"Good morning," she said with a tight smile as she walked to her desk, which faced his. As had been his usual routine for a few weeks now, a to go cup from her favorite cafe sat steaming, a mild warming charm around it, on her desk. She picked it up, the spell dissipating, and took a sip. A latte with honey and cinnamon. Her favorite. "Thank you," she said, her cheeks heating, as she knew they would.

"It's no problem," he said, giving her a small smile before returning to his work. He usually chatted more with her, but today she was just fine with radio silence.

To avoid thinking about her dream, or about how awkward she felt looking at _real _Draco when _dream _Malfoy was still present in her mind, she dove into her work and let herself instead think back on the moment they decided to be friends.

* * *

It was on a Tuesday over two years before. Hermione came into work and headed straight to her office.

Hermione and Draco been sharing an office space for nearly a year, and in that time she'd grown rather fond of him. Ron was still awkward around her, which put Harry in the middle, and since he and Ron shared an office, she was mostly alone at work. But Malfoy was pleasant to talk to, and as long as she thought of him like someone new rather than as the arrogant child who'd made her life unpleasant for so many years.

"Granger," he said when she entered their office, nodding once.

"Morning, Malfoy," she said with a tight smile. They usually didn't speak again for a while. When the coffee cart came round, he'd often offer to buy her one, but today was different.

"Granger," he said almost immediately, his voice higher pitched than usual, catching her attention.

She looked up. "Yes?" Her eyebrows lifted and she gave him another small smile. She told herself she needed to smile at him more than other people, to make sure he didn't think she was slipping back into their old animosity.

"I have something I need to discuss with you. It's work-related, in a way, so I wanted to ask if we could grab some lunch together. To discuss it. The thing I need to discuss." He cleared his throat. Never, in all the years she'd known him, had she seen him flustered.

Taken aback, Hermione nodded. "Sure," she said, nodding again. "I mean, of course."

He visibly relaxed and for the next few hours, things were routine. They worked. They talked when it was related to paperwork. It was calm and completely unmemorable.

When their small cuckoo clock - a gift from Arthur Weasley when Hermione became an auror - chimed noon, the routine shifted.

Draco walked with his hands in his suit jacket pockets - he'd taken to wearing muggle clothes to work, as did any aurors, like Hermione, whose work might take them into muggle areas - in silence.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder. She regretted that she'd chosen today to wear heels to work.

"A little shop right up this street," he said. His hand drifted to her lower back, barely touching, as he motioned toward the shop. "Nicholson's."

If his hand on her lower back hadn't caught her off guard, going to her favorite coffee house had, but she held her tongue. Nicholson's was an establishment frequented by wizards and muggles, which somehow made Hermione feel less nervous than a purely wizard one.

The bell tinkled when they entered, and Draco's hand dropped away from her spine as they walked to the front counter. Hermione, flustered, ordered her usual - a tuna salad croissant and a small latte with honey and cinnamon. Draco, to her surprise, ordered two slices of quiche and a raspberry latte with extra whipped cream.

They sat, eating in nearly-comfortable silence, while they ate their lunches. When there was nothing but lukewarm coffee left, Hermione grew tired of waiting.

"So, you said you wanted to talk?" she sipped her drink, using a bit of wandless magic to warm the cup.

"Yes, well." He sat his own cup down and picked up the paper napkin he'd unfolded in his lap up. With deft fingers he folded it and placed it on the small, chipped plate his quiche had come on, now only covered with crumbs. Only Malfoy would put a paper napkin in his lap at a cafe. "To start, I wanted to say thank you. For working with me, and for giving me a chance." He cleared his throat as he leaned his elbows on the table, then as if remembering that that was improper, he dropped his hands into his lap again.

"You don't have to thank me," Hermione said, letting her own elbows rest on the table as she leaned forward.

"I do," he cut her off. "Claiming neutrality in the war did nothing to pay for my previous transgressions. When Harry was assigned as my partner, and you as my office mate, I thought for sure Shacklebolt was hoping you'd run me off." He took a deep breath, elbows going back to the table as he took a sip of his latte. Hermione noticed he hadn't warmed it, and with a subtle point of her finger, she warmed it for him. He nodded in thanks, a tight-lipped smile on his face.

"But instead of running me off, Harry shook my hand and jumped into work with me. And you, while less enthusiastic at first - " he smirked at her and she laughed lightly, "eased into work with me as if we'd only just met. It was nice." He sipped his latte, and Hermione absently wondered how he could stand so much sugar.

"It was only fair," she said, her fingers curling around her cup. "You passed all the tests to become an auror, just like the rest of us. Which meant you were cut out for the job." She shrugged and took a sip, savoring the hint of cinnamon and honey. "It wouldn't have been fair for me hold the past against you when we were both starting fresh."

"That's what I mean," he said, reaching out, as if to take her hand, then pulling back, light pink staining his prominent cheekbones. "If you had petitioned for a new officemate, or cast any doubt - real or imagined - on my abilities, I would have been out faster than a freshly released snitch. But you didn't." He took a deep breath. "Which brings me to why I wanted to speak with you. I wanted to do it here - this is your favorite cafe, isn't it?" He looked almost hopeful.

"It is," she admitted, eyes narrowly slightly.

"Well, I wanted to do this here, in case what I had to say made you mad. Or made you laugh me out of the building. Either way, I was hoping your favorite cafe might put you in a good mood."

"Malfoy, out with it!" Hermione laughed lightly, her latte forgotten on the table.

"You're an excellent co-worker," he began. He picked at the seam of the paper cup in his hands with his finger nail. "But I was wondering if you'd also consider - " he took a deep breath and Hermione's heart began to race. "If you'd also consider allowing me to be your _friend._" He met her eyes the, silvery-gray and wide with hope. "A real friend."

Hermione couldn't help it. She laughed. She felt it bubble up from deep down and her head fell forward slightly. It wasn't until she heard his chair scrape that she looked up. The hope on his face was gone. His lips were pursed. She'd hurt his feelings.

"Malfoy," she said, reaching out to grab his arm. He stiffened, but she gently pulled him back down toward his seat. "I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you," she said, keeping her hand on his arm a moment longer to make sure he stayed seated. He was scowling at her, lips pressed closed. "It's just, all of this?" She motioned to the cafe around them. "You seemed so nervous, you bought me lunch at my favorite cafe, all to ask to be my friend? I was sure you were going to tell me someone had threatened your life, or - " she almost admitted she'd thought he was going to ask her on a date, but caught herself, "or something worse, but all you wanted to know was whether or not I'd consider being your friend." She smiled at him and patted his arm again, which hadn't moved from the table top. "I'd love to be your friend," she said, and he instantly relaxed.

"I'm not very good at this," he said, picking up his latte and taking a chug. "At Hogwarts, the friends I had were friends because we'd either grown up together, or because they knew my last name." He shrugged. "When I first met Potter, I tried to ask him to be my friend. We were in Madame Malkins before the start of term, first year. He wasn't interested," he grimaced. "I just don't know _how_ to make friends." He shrugged again and took another chug of his latte, emptying the cup.

"I think you're overthinking it," she said, raising an eyebrow and smirking at him. "Don't get me wrong, a free lunch and the best latte in town is lovely, but you don't have to do all of that just to be my friend." Her smirk transformed into a smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, smiling in return.

* * *

That had been two years ago, and with a few little spats related to work disagreements, they'd been friends every since. Until Hermione started having very elaborate, very _real _dreams in which he swept her off her feet and shagged her senseless. Now, every time he caught her eye, her cheeks heated and she felt warmth in her lower belly that was _not _appropriate for work. It was hard to talk to him when she kept picturing his broad, pale chest and his eyes heated as they stared at her.

"Granger?" Malfoy was standing by her desk, looking at her as if he were concerned. Had he been talking?

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you say something?" She resisted the urge to cover her bright red cheeks.

"Are you all right?" He placed his open palm on her forehead, then the back of his hand on her heated cheek. "You feel warm."

"Oh," she laughed too brightly and pulled away, "Yes. I'm fine."

"Anyway," he said as he leaned his hip against her desk, not looking convinced, "I was asking if you were going tomorrow. To the Solstice Gala?"

"That! Right." She stood to get a little distance from him, using the pretense of filing paperwork in one of their magically enlarged filing cabinets. "Yes, I am. I think we're expected to." She took a deep breath before she turned to him.

"Who're you going with?" he asked. He was never that blunt. He cleared his throat, stepping away from her desk to straighten his suit jacket. She'd hadn't seen him awkward like this since their conversation at Nicholson's.

"Oh, no one." She swallowed. "You?" Had the room gotten warmer?

"No one." He nodded once. "I was thinking. I mean. We could go together," he said, looking just above her head. "You know, to avoid the inevitable good intentions of other single people wanting to dance and whatnot." He smiled at her and cleared his throat again. "Just to make things less awkward." His hands were in his jacket pockets.

"Sure," she said, her heart thundering in her chest, her voice way too bright. "As friends," she said, and if her face had not already been crimson, it would have bloomed with embarrassment.

"Friends." His smile fell a little - or maybe she'd just imagined that.

"We can meet there," she said, turning to file more nonexistent paperwork to hide her trembling hands. "It starts at 7, I think."

"Brilliant," he said. Now it was his turn to sound too cheerful. "Well, I have to, er - " she heard him shuffling paperwork, so she turned toward him. "I have meetings the rest of the day. So I'll see you there." He nodded at her, hands full. He turned, his hip crashing into the corner of the desk. "Dammit," he grumbled, then smiled again. "Right. See you at the gala, Granger."

Hermione stood, hand above the filing cabinet, frozen as the room grew quiet.

She looked at what she'd filed and huffed as she had to pull it all back out. With hands that still shook with the thought of attending the gala with Malfoy, she refiled her work, sat at her desk, and did her best to concentrate for the rest of the day.

* * *

"You look like a dream," Luna said from where she sat on Hermione's bed, braiding her long, flaxen hair over one shoulder. Luna worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in a new, sub department that was dedicated to proving the existence of little-known or mythical creatures.

"What?" Hermione spun, eyes wide. There was no way Luna could know about her dream, was there?

"Lovely," Luna said, a small smile on her pink lips. "Dreamy." Luna wore a long, flowy coral pink dress that shimmered when she walked.

"If anyone looks like a dream," Hermione said, recovering, "it's you, Luna."

"Thank you," she said with a wistful smile. "I'm hoping to catch someone tonight." She picked up sprigs of coral-colored baby's breath and began weaving them into her braid, that gentle smile staying on her lips. "Do you know Blaise Zabini?" she asked, her grin growing. "I've invited him to come with me tonight." She smiled up at Hermione and stood, smoothing her silky, wrinkle-free dress with her long, pale fingers. "I'm hoping we'll have sex."

Hermione spun again, startled, and stared at Luna, her mouth agape, cherry lipstick half-on. "Just. Like that? You hope you have _sex _with him?"

"Yes," Luna said and sighed, a happy smile on her face. "It's inevitable, I think, but I'm tired of waiting. We've been out twice," she said, moving to look into the mirror, Hermione following suit. Luna reapplied her coral lip gloss and rubbed her lips together, then added a few more sprigs of peachy-pink baby's breath to her hair. "But he's been a gentleman each time. I'm hoping tonight, he'll get over that." Luna turned to Hermione. "Here, let me help you."

In shock, Hermione turned and let Luna tuck a few stray curls back into the low, messy chignon that Hermione had tamed her hair into.

"What about you, Hermione?" Luna asked as she held a bobby-pin between her teeth and carefully pinned up the wildest curls that had come loose. "Who are you going to the gala with?" She pinned the final curl and let Hermione look at herself in the mirror.

"Oh, my office mate. Draco Malfoy." Her cheeks were red again, but if Luna noticed, she didn't comment.

"Oh, well that's nice. Maybe you'll get to have sex, too."

Hermione sputtered, eyes wide, and stared at Luna. "It's not like that," she said, heart racing, images of dream Draco ravishing her suddenly at the forefront of her mind.

"Too bad. He's very handsome," Luna said, turning back to the mirror one last time. "Well, I need to go. Blaise is picking me up in a few minutes." She went to leave, but stopped just before the bedroom door. "You really do look like a dream, Hermione. Malfoy is lucky to have you on his arm." And with an airy, Luna-wave, she left.

Hermione turned back to the mirror and finished applying her lipstick, then surveyed herself, butterflies rampant in her stomach.

Her dress was new - a deep, burnt yellow that shimmered golden in the right light. The neckline was high, scooping just below her collar bones, and the straps were wide and nearly capped he shoulders. The bodice was fitted and cinched at her waist, then flared out in loose, shimmery folds. She looked at her garish red lipstick and rolled her eyes. With a flick of her wand, the lipstick was gone, and she replaced it with a little clear gloss. There. That felt more like her.

She'd told Malfoy to meet her at the gala, and part of her wished she'd asked him to meet her before, to pick her up like Blaise and Luna. But that was silly. They were friends. Nothing more. She pushed the dream version of him out of her mind, gathered her beaded clutch, and apparated.

The gala was being held at one of the old estates that the Ministry had bought after the war. Most of the old families had multiple homes, and the Greengrasses had sold one - for a very reasonable price - to the Ministry for events such as this. Hermione had been to this particular home once before, and was shocked to see how it had been transformed.

It was still daylight, as the summer solstice was the longest day of the year, but when she walked into the foyer, it felt like walking _into_ a sunset. The ceiling had been enchanted to look like the most beautiful sky during dusk - rich purples, pinks, and oranges. All around, floral arrangements full of vivid, elegant wildflowers sat. Vines of flowers adorned most vertical surfaces, and it felt like walking into a summer wonderland.

Hermione walked through the foyer, nodding at co-workers. She wanted to look for Draco, but she was nervous, so she looked instead for Luna and Blaise, or Harry and Ginny. She was only mildly surprised to see Ron a little ways off, cheeks red, with Astoria Greengrass on his arm. Astoria was truly lovely. Her long, dark hair was pulled up high in a ballerina bun, and her emerald dress hugged her every curve and dipped low between her breasts. Hermione suddenly felt plain. She wondered what Draco would think if he saw Astoria, and she felt very foolish.

Just as she'd given up finding someone to talk to, a hand on her arm startled her. She spun and nearly collided with Malfoy.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, his silvery eyes wide.

"Oh, you didn't." She laughed. "I mean, you did, but it's fine." She smiled, still nervous, but forcing that feeling the back of her mind. "I was looking for you."

"I was looking for _you,_" he said, smirking. "And I found you." He took a step back and his smirk grew into as mile. "You look - " he met her eyes and blinked. "You look gorgeous," he said, his voice deep.

A blush crept up her neck even as she smiled. "You too," she said honestly. "I mean, handsome." She laughed and pressed her palm to her cheek. "Why is this so awkward?"

He laughed then, the laugh that she'd grown to associate with who he really was when he was comfortable, and it helped her relax. "I was just thinking the same thing." He took a breath through his nose and smirked at her. "Let's just pretend we're at work." He held out his arm.

She stepped up to him, tucking her hands in the crook of his elbow, and nodded. "Work." She shivered as he covered her hand with his and led her to the refreshments table.

For the next hour, they strolled around the gala, drinking wine - Hermione preferred red, Draco white - and commenting quietly on their co-workers, making wagers about who would go home with who, and would would be too drunk to apparate home. They drank wine, they laughed, they talked, and every now and again, his hand would brush her lower back as it had that first lunch he'd taken her to and she would pretend he'd done it to make her lean into him.

"What do you think of Luna and Blaise?" Hermione asked after a time. Malfoy leaned forward conspiratorially and looked where she subtly motioned. Blaise and Luna were dancing, holding each other so close it was almost indecent. As they watched, Blaise whispered something in Luna's ear, and she laughed, big and loud as Blaise placed a kiss on her throat. Hermione blushed and chanced a glance at Malfoy.

He was watching the couple with a smirk. His hand moved to Hermione's lower back again and he leaned closer, his lips next to her ear so as to not be overheard. "I think they're about two songs away from sneaking out," he said and she laughed lightly.

"I think that's her plan," Hermione confided, turning toward him, finding her face inches from his.

"I think that's his plan, too," he said, smiling, his eyes darting down to her lips for the briefest of moments.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Hermione pulled away under the pretense of looking for more couples to comment on. Before she could find one, though, Draco cleared his throat.

"Hermione," he said. He'd been using her first name more and more as of late, and every time, it gave her chills.

"Yes, Draco?" His name on her lips was less common, but his eyes widened a smidgen when she said it.

He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and held out his hand to her. "Would you like to dance with me?" His expression reminded her of that day in Nicholson's when he'd asked to be her friend. Hopeful. So hopeful it hurt.

"I'd like that," she said, mouth suddenly dry. She took his hand and let him lead her to the dance floor, away from Blaise and Luna. The song changed into a slow waltz. Hermione's upper hand wrapped around his as his hand wrapped around her waist.

She let him lead, not as familiar with ballroom dancing as he was, and let him float her around the dance floor. As they danced, she loosened up. She laughed as he dipped her, pulling her back a little closer to his chest. And when the song changed to a slower dance, she let him draw her close and sway with her.

This was nice. Really nice. Being this close to him was better than her dreams. In her dreams, he was this beacon of sexual desire. And while she had to admit she was attracted to him like that, being with him now was something sweeter. Something softer. He held her hand in his delicately, squeezing every soft often, and his hand on her waist was warm and light.

"This is nice," she breathed, looking up to find him already looking at her. "Don't you think?"

He nodded and wet his lips again. "Very nice."

She smiled up at him, and he smiled back, and they continued to dance. As the song shifted, their movements didn't. He still held her close, regardless of whether the song moved slowly or quickly, and she let him. She waved at Harry as he passed, twirling Ginny who wore a turquoise dress that flared at the knees. Ron and Astoria danced awkwardly to the side, both looking shy. Blaise and Luna had disappeared.

After three more songs, Hermione made herself step away. She looked up at him, cheeks pink from exertion and his proximity and smiled. She couldn't _stop _smiling.

"I think I need something to drink," she said, and he nodded and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. Awkward Draco was adorable Draco, she'd decided.

"Right," he said and offered her his arm again. She took it easily and they each took another glass of wine from a tower of wine glasses on one of the refreshment tables.

Again, they stood off to the side as they sipped their beverages. She noticed his hand stayed on her lower back now and she didn't pull away. She leaned into his touch, into his side, and he didn't pull away.

Hermione felt lightheaded. She'd not had enough wine to cause it, so her only explanation was his presence. His touch. Where she leaned against him she felt tingles. Where his hand rested on the small of her back, heat blossomed and spread into her lower belly.

"Would you like to dance again?" he asked when her wine was gone. His lips were so close that they brushed her ear and she shivered. She nodded, not looking at him, and he swept her back to the dance floor.

It was close to 10 now and the sun was finally setting. As the sun outside set, the enchanted ceiling's sunset darkened. All around, the bouquets and vines of brilliant wildflowers were closing their petals, and in their place, moon flowers bloomed.

"Hermione," Draco said, pulling her gaze up to his face. He was leaning toward her, his expression earnest, and soft, and nervous.

"Yes?" The word came out as a breath and she felt him hold her a little more closely.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight." His voice was quiet, but he was so close to her she heard him even over the stringed music all around. "You really do look beautiful," he said. She blushed, but didn't break her gaze from his.

"I'm really glad you asked me to come with you," she said, feeling her heartbeat in her throat.

"As friends?" he asked, his breath ghosting over her cheek and she shivered. She looked up at him, eyes wide, without words. Her lack of an answer caused his eyes to widen. There was that expression again. _Hope._ As the music played all around them, as people twirled and swayed, oblivious to them, Draco kept his eyes on hers and lowered his lips.

A hairs breadth from her lips, he stopped, as if waiting for her to pull away. When she didn't, he gently pressed his lips to hers.

Hermione's eyes drifted closed as she leaned into the kiss. He opened his lips just enough to pillow her top lip with both of his and she got a small taste of his bottom lip. White wine. She'd never really cared for it before this moment. Her breaths were quick as his hand on her back squeezed her closer for a single moment, then he pulled his mouth away.

His lips felt better than in the dream. Her heart was racing as her eyes drifted open.

"Draco - " she stopped when she noted the change in scenery around them. The false sky had darkened to a deep midnight blue. The moon flowers had all bloomed and shone with silvery white light. And all around were sparkles - shining like stars. Shining like in her dream.

In a panic, she stepped away from him. His fingers clung to her, but she stepped back further. He opened his mouth, his content expression changing from hopeful to fearful in a beat.

Before he could say a word, she darted away, pushing through the crowd, trying to find an exit. This wasn't real. The room, his eyes, they were just like her dreams. She had to leave.

She made it all the way to the front door when she stopped. Instead of leaving, she darted into the nearest room - a bathroom - and stared at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink. Curls had once against come loose from her chignon. Her lips looked the same, but they felt so different. She touched them, and imagined the feel of _his _lips pressed there and her heart stuttered in her chest.

She'd run because of that damned dream. She'd run from something so much _better _than that damned dream. What was wrong with her? Had she ruined it?

She needed to find him. Needed to explain why she'd run away. That it hadn't been because he kissed her. She wasn't sure what she'd say to him - would she tell him about the dream? - but she knew she needed to find him.

She left the bathroom in a hurry and surged back into the ballroom, only to run into Harry. He stopped her, arms out, and laughed.

"There you are!" he said, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. He looked odd with his hair slicked back, but nice. "We were wondering where you'd gone."

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, looking around his shoulder. "I really need to find Draco."

"I saw him just a moment ago. He was looking for you," Harry said, a smirk on his lips. When Hermione's only response was to look past him, out in to the room, Harry put his hands on her shoulders and took a deep breath. "Listen, 'Mione. You need to know something." He sighed. "I've worked with Malfoy for years now. He talks to me about stuff, and he really likes you. Enough that, when he and I are out on a mission, you're pretty much all he talks about." He squeezed her shoulders. "I don't know how you feel about him, but he and I are mates now, and I just thought you should know how he felt before you go back in there." He let his hands dropped and nudged his glasses up on his nose again. "I think he was going to tell you all this himself, but last I saw him, he seemed frazzled, kept saying he'd messed everything up, but wouldn't tell me why." Harry shrugged.

"Are you done?" Hermione asked, feeling anxious. "Because I really need to go _find _him."

"Oh." Harry said, then his face brightened. "Oh! Good. Well, I think he headed toward the back. Said he needed some air."

"Thanks, Harry." Hermione took off through the crowd, holding her skirt in one hand so as not to trip.

The dream had been like this, but different. In the dream, she'd felt like he was pulling her to him, but now, she just felt desperation - to right what she'd messed up, to explain, to maybe kiss him again.

She pushed through couples, muttering apologies, until she reached the back of the room.

She wasn't surprised to see a row of balconies. They hadn't come to this part of the ballroom yet, but she should have known they'd be there. And there he was, leaning on the railing of one, moonlight making his hair glow like the moon flowers. He was facing away from her, his head leaning forward in dejection.

Hermione took a deep breath and walked to his side.

He jumped a little as she appeared beside him, and she smiled, not nearly as nervous as she felt like she should be. "I didn't mean to scare you," she said, parroting his words from earlier.

"Hermione," he turned to her, eyes panicked.

She held up her hands, and let them rest on his arms. "I shouldn't have run off like that," she said. She squeezed his arms, feeling the ropey muscles beneath his jacket. "It's just - " she hadn't figured out what she would say. "You'll think I'm barmy," she said, sighing.

"Try me," he said, his voice low as he rotated arms so that he was holding her arms just above her elbow.

She met his eyes and steeled herself. "For weeks, I've been having these dreams," she said. His eyes were molten, just like in her dreams, only brighter. "They start with me looking for you, and we're - " she shrugged, "we're here. At this gala." She wet her lips and didn't miss how his eyes watched her mouth for a long moment. "After you kissed me, I opened my eyes and I saw the lights. The sparkles. The stars. It's _just _like my dream, every detail is the same, and I panicked." She stepped closer to him. "Not because you kissed me," she breathed, then smiled. "I rather liked that part. But because it was the same, the _exact _same, as what I've dreamed for _weeks_."

He stared at her for a long moment as if trying to figure something out, then he smiled. He let go of her arms and gently placed his hands on her waist. Her breath caught in her throat with the heat of his fingers. "What else happened in your dream?" he asked, his voice gruff, a smirk on his lips, and Hermione couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up as he waggled an eyebrow at her.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said, and he sighed, his smirk still on his face.

"You have no idea," he breathed.

She raised one shoulder in a half shrug, and turned so that they were both looking out over the balcony. His hand fell to her low back, heavy there now instead of light and unsure.

"So," he said, his hand pressing against her spine in a comforting, possessive way. "You liked it when I kissed you, huh?" Nervous, awkward Malfoy was gone, but Hermione didn't mind this confident version so much.

Hermione laughed again and looked up at him. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight. She leaned toward him, and bit her bottom lip. "I liked it very much," she whispered, as if it were a secret, and he grinned beautifully.

"I'd like to kiss you again," he admitted, pulling her against his side.

Hermione felt a surge of confidence. The dream forgotten, she looked up at him and smirked. "Maybe we could go somewhere else for that."

He curled his fingers around her waist and swallowed, nervous again. "I didn't mean that I wanted to - " His pupils were round and big in the moonlight. "I mean I _want _to, but I didn't mean now. I don't want you to think - "

Hermione laughed and leaned up to kiss his cheek, letting her lips linger there. "Come on, then," she said, offering him her hand.

He didn't need a second invitation, with a quick glance around the party, he took her hand and practically dragged her away. Out of the ballroom, Hermione stopped him and pulled him to her. She leaned against a wall and pulled his mouth to hers. Unlike their first kiss, she felt fire build in her belly as his fingers spanned her waist and his lips danced against hers.

He pulled away and took her hand back, dragging her further down the hall. Her laughter chased them as he burst into a room with a floo.

"Are you sure you want to leave?" he asked, hands on her cheeks. Hermione nodded. "With me?" he asked, and she laughed and nodded again, the hopeful look on his face setting something inside her on fire.

Draco took her hand, threw floo powder into the fireplace, called out his address, and stepped into the emerald flames, pulling her with him.

They fell out of the fireplace into a flat much nicer than Hermione's, but not that different.

"Do you want a tour?" he asked, his chest heaving.

"Maybe later," Hermione said, and then she was on him. He caught her, arms around her waist as his went around her neck. She attacked his mouth, and he groaned as he returned the favor.

"Been thinking about this - " he kissed down her neck as her feet touched the ground and they started walking, tripping over each other, toward his bedroom. "For so long."

She kicked her shoes off and arched into him as his hands found the zipper at the back of her dress.

"Promise," he said before kissing her deeply. "This wasn't my intention tonight." He kissed her throat, pausing before slipping the dress off her body. "Just wanted to dance with you." He kissed bit her neck lightly and she gasped. "Hold you."

She smiled up at him and let the dress slip from her shoulders and pool at her feet, glad she'd worn matching undergarments to try and feel beautiful, even though she hadn't thought anyone else would see them.

His eyes traveled down her body, then back to her face. He held her jaw and kissed her again, then mumbled against her lips, "Not that I'm complaining."

She laughed and stepped back. "Too many clothes," she said as she started working the buttons to his shirt. He was quick to help, throwing his jacket, ripping off his belt and sliding his slacks down his hips. In moments, he was standing in only his boxer briefs. Hermione's hands itched to trail over his pale skin.

"This is so much better than my dream," she said, and he smiled.

"Granger," he growled, pulling her to him. She loved the feel of his naked torso against hers and let her arms snake around his waist to feel the strong muscles in his back. "You'll have to tell me all about that dream sometime," he whispered in her ear.

With a grin she stood on her toes, their chests pressed together. She put her lips near his ear and felt his hands on her tighten. She felt his erection straining his boxer briefs and pressed her belly closer. "Why don't I just show you?"

Draco growled, and the sound caused warmth to pool between her legs. He attacked her neck with hot, open mouth kisses - licking, biting, sucking. He lifted her and her legs went around his waist. With long strides, he pushed the bedroom door open and fell with her onto his bed.

He flipped her onto her back and towered over her, kissing down her neck, down her chest. With warm fingers, he pulled a single cup of her bra down and his fingers massaged the soft flesh hidden there. His thumb brushed over her nipple, and she gasped when his mouth covered the hardened nub.

He lay on her, kissing her breast while his hands slipped behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. She arched her back and he pulled it away, exposing her other breast to the warm night air. He palmed one while he sucked and licked the other, then traded, giving both equal attention.

"Perfect," he murmured as he kissed down her belly. Her fingers got lost in his hair as he made it down to her panties.

He met her eyes, looking up at her from between her legs, then he pressed his mouth to her wet opening over the cloth of her panties. She gasped and her hips lifted. He placed hot, open mouth kisses over her underwear as he hooked his thumbs into the thin bits of fabric on her hips and pulled them down, exposing her to the air and to his mouth.

His tongue dipped into her and she moaned, fisting his hair. He kissed her, licked her, bit gently, over and over and brought her right to the edge.

"More," she said, using her grip on his hair to pull his head up. "Want you," she panted. He nodded, and as he slipped up her body, she hooked a leg around him and flipped them. He grabbed her hips and she wiggled free, sliding down to pull his boxer briefs down, over muscled thighs covered in soft, blonde hair. She crawled back up his legs and fully took him in. He was long and hard. She wrapped both hands around the smooth length of him and he bucked into her hands. With a confidence she'd never before possessed, she pumped him once, twice, then took the tip of him into her mouth. He groaned and jerked her up by her armpits, pulling her so that her chest was lying on his.

"I won't need any help finishing, Granger," he growled, and she laughed. She caught his mouth as she moved. Being a practical witch, Hermione Granger had been on the potion since she was fifteen, so without hesitation, she moved so that the tip of him, still wet from her mouth, was pressed against her entrance.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked, holding onto his shoulders with both hands. She knew she wanted this. Hell, she'd dreamed this for so long, it felt inevitable. But he'd only planned to dance.

"I've been sure about this since the moment you went to lunch with me and agreed to be my friend, Hermione." He cupped her face in his large hands and leaned up enough to kiss her.

She kissed him back, tenderly, as she slowly lowered herself onto him, gasping with him as they joined, moving until he was fully inside her. She paused, letting her body accommodate his length.

"Oh, Draco," she breathed against his mouth before she started moving, rocking her hips against him, his hands gripping her hips as he gritted his teeth.

Every rock of her hips ground the length of him against her G-spot, and she found it hard to move through the waves of intense pleasure coursing through her.

"So good," she breathed, letting her head fall back as her hands supported her weight on his chest.

As if reading her mind, Draco sat up. Her legs went around his waist, changing her angle, and she gasped and clung to him.

He kissed her shoulder as they moved, rocking together slowly. He leaned back to look at her as his hips rolled with hers. "I want you, Hermione," he whispered as he kissed her. "All of you." He kissed her again. "After this, I want _us_ \- "

"You have me," she breathed, shuddering as she almost reached the edge. "After this," she whispered out, "you have me."

He rolled his hips once, his pelvic bone pressed against her nub, and with shaking limbs she came undone, gripping him with arms and legs as she screamed, quietly, into the skin of his neck.

When she was finished, he held her tight and rolled her onto her back, never pulling away from her. She fell back against the bed, covered in sweat, muscles trembling, and watched him increase the speed of their love making. He was all sinewy muscle and smooth skin as he moved in and out of her. Even though she was spent, her hips rose to meet his thrusts and her hands found his shoulders as he gripped him so tightly she knew it must hurt him.

"I'm yours," she gasped as he thrust into her and filled her completely. "I'm yours."

With a groan, he thrust into her once more. His body tensed. His forehead fell against her shoulder and she wrapped her arms and legs around him until his muscles loosened and he fell against her completely.

Once their trembling slowed, he rolled to the side. She turned with him and brushed sweaty hair off his forehead. He always kept it slicked back for work. It was nice to see it so casual.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Her hair had fallen from it's chignon, and she reached back to pull a few stray bobby pins out and tossed them to the ground. She nodded with an almost shy smile.

"So," he said as they repositioned themselves so he could hold her to his chest as the night air dried the sweat on their bodies. His rubbed his fingers lightly up and down her spine, making her shiver. "These dreams," she could hear the smile in his voice. "Were they anything like that?"

She smiled into his chest and kissed the broad muscle there. "That was better than any dream I've ever had." She kissed his chest again. "Ever."

She felt the laugh in his chest, rather than heard it. "Good."

* * *

When Hermione woke the next morning, she had a smile on her face. The dream the night before had been so much more vivid than any before it. She could remember the way his lips had tasted like white wine, the way his words - _I want you _\- sounded. She sighed with the remembered weight of his body on hers.

And then, beside her, someone shifted.

Her eyes shot open and the night before came rushing back. Beside her, Draco stretched and drew her close, pulling her body to his and curling possessively around it. She could feel his skin everywhere. She remembered his hands, his mouth, everywhere, and she smiled.

"Morning, Granger," he said, his voice heavy with sleep, and she turned to face him. He pulled her close and nuzzled into her neck, through her curtain of tangled hair.

"Good morning," she breathed. how different it would feel to say those words in the office now.

"You're still here," he said, a grin in his voice as he peppered her throat with slow, open mouthed kisses. "I was afraid you'd been a dream."

She arched into him, feeling his growing erection against her leg, and smiled. The dreams had never gone past the one night. Her stomach flipped with nerves and excitement as she imagined what awaited them.

"My dreams never make it this far," she said, looking down at his eyes, loving the way the morning light turned them from silver to light gray - so soft.

"I suppose we'll have to figure out the rest together, then." He leaned up and kissed her, softly, and she nodded.

"Together."

Hermione sighed as he rolled her, the weight of him pressing her body into the mattress, and kissed her, erasing the memory of her dreams and replacing them with something so much better.


End file.
